Bellis Perennis
by frooit
Summary: What a surprise.


**bellis perennis** by frooit

 _ffvii - zack/cloud - cloud is having a bad day_

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Cloud is having a bad day.

And it's only just started.

He's tired, and unfocused, and missed two important announcements already. He's stumbled over his aching feet, and his hair is getting too long and falling into his face, and he didn't dodge a practice lunge right, and.

It's his birthday too.

It might as well not be, here in Shinra basic training. Everything and everyone is focused on where to be, how to be, what to do, how to do; formations and lessons and punishment and more formations, and drilling, and inspections, and Cloud's exhausted with it all.

He's trying to listen to Zack's instructions, but he's having real trouble.

He's zoning out, closing his eyes too long, focusing a little too long on Zack's Herculean jawline, his throat, his pronounced and pink lips, and his jabbing, gloved finger.

A jabbing finger pointing at him.

"Strife!" Zack bellows.

Cloud jumps and stands to attention.

"Falling asleep on us!?"

Cloud shakes his head, "No, sir!"

All Zack has to do is sigh and gesture, and Cloud knows. Everyone knows. Because Zack, a First Class leader, does it every time he has an offender on his hands.

He simply beckons a finger.

 _Come here, boy._

Like a mother might do with a child.

Cloud hangs his head and steps forward.

"Keep at it, kids," Zack tells the rest of the group. "Gonna have a chat with space cadet here."

He leads Cloud from the auditorium and into the hallway outside.

The metal door bangs shut.

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"Fuck," Zack groans. "I hate giving orders..."

He scratches the back of his neck. He breathes another sigh. He draws a cigarette from a pack and sparks it with a disposable lighter.

All while eyeing Cloud.

"What's up with you today?"

He didn't drag him out here for a stern talking-to. No. Zack came out here for a drag of smoke.

It's not the first time he's done it either. He's the perfect alibi. Given Cloud's level of participation and stature, Zack calls on him most every day.

Cloud groans right back. "I dunno. Tired."

"I know what's wrong," Zack assures, exhaling grey and great.

He doesn't say anything else. He points at something (or someone) behind Cloud, who turns around to check, only to find the stretching hallway behind long and empty.

He's on his way back around when he's quickly confronted by yellow, green, red, and white.

Flowers.

A bouquet of daisies.

Zack has them held out before him.

"Happy birthday, Spike," he says.

Cloud gawks.

Zack shrugs and slightly lowers the gift as he waits, cigarette smoldering in his other hand.

Cloud inspects the situation, the offering, the authenticity, and Zack's handsome face.

He carefully reaches out and accepts the gift.

"Didn't know what to get you," Zack explains between a casual drag from his vice. "And I learned about this yesterday, by the way. Your birthday. Kinda limited here too. Either hand cream, cigarettes, or pornography. But, uh, figured you were a country boy, like me, so you might appreciate them. I dunno."

"I love them."

"Love. Really?" Both of Zack's eyebrows rise. "You just sayin' that? They weren't easy to get."

"No. I really love them. My, uh… My mom's favourite, actually. The yellow ones."

"Oh, shit. I'm sorry if—"

"No, no. It's cool."

Zack is so cautious, so protective, so aware. It doesn't help Cloud's reputation any, but it helps him survive. He pulls Cloud out of formation under the guise of discipline just to give him a breather, an encouraging word, or a pointer. He takes more care. He sees that Cloud struggles.

It makes Cloud feel awkward.

Pleasantly awkward.

And he might be turning red.

"Thanks. Thanks a lot, Zack."

"No worries."

"How did you—"

"Happy birthday, kid," Kunsel cuts in, striding up from behind Zack. "It's not mysterious. Or magic. He had help from me."

"Don't spoil it," Zack hisses, lightly enough.

Kunsel scoffs. "You _do_ know your crew are stuck in a cycle of squats and jumping jacks, right? It's ridiculous to watch."

"Oh, dammit," Zack mutters, taking a last, quick drag off his cigarette before flicking it out.

Cloud hasn't torn his gaze from the bouquet.

Bright and alive and fragrant, and all for him.

"And by the way," Zack adds, "enjoy the rest of your day without me yelling at you. Lucky, lucky."

Cloud cocks his head up to eye him.

"He's speechless," Kunsel remarks.

Zack grins and leans over to prod Cloud in the shoulder, pushing him back some. "If anyone asks, you've been in sick bay. Fainted or something. Getting overworked. Annnd. If you want your cake—

"It's not cake," Kunsel corrects.

Zack socks his friend in the arm. "You gotta ruin everything? Jealous?" And then he says to Cloud, "Whatever. It'll have candles. Meet me in the second floor cafeteria after midnight. _After_."

Cloud is incredulous. "Really?"

Zack simply grins his beaming grin and spins on his heels to return to the auditorium, and belting out orders, and being a hero pending, and a good friend, and inspiring others.

And always watching Cloud's back.

It's going to get Zack in trouble one day.

Cloud can't help but want to be the same.

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End file.
